


When You Believe

by InTheShadows



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Harry Potter Needs a Hug, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Pre-Hogwarts, Protective Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood), Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 17:09:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9281609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InTheShadows/pseuds/InTheShadows
Summary: Harry shivers as he huddles against the house. This isn't the first time he has been locked out, but it is the first time it's been winter. At least the snow is pretty. But as Harry watches, something strange happens. Footprints dance through the snow, with no one in sight. How odd.





	

Harry shivers as another gust of cold wind blows against him. He wraps his too thin arms around himself as he huddles against the house. This isn't the first time he had been locked outside. Oh no, not at all. The Dursleys don't care how long it takes him to do his chores. He had better do them. Or else.

Today's had featured the usual cooking and cleaning, of course, but he also had to shovel the sidewalk and drive as well. Normally it wouldn't have taken him long. There hadn't been that much snow and he had learned to be quick long ago. But then his cousin Dudley had decided he was bored and wanted to play Harry Hunting. Again.

Meaning he had to run and hide until the boys had given up. Which meant he was behind schedule for his chores and had to go back outside when he had finished cooking. Which led to his 'family' deciding he was taking too long and locking him out. Again.

This may not have been the first time he has been locked out, but it is the first time it happened in the dead of winter. Another gust of wind and Harry pulls his thin jacket as close to him as he can. It is so cold out tonight. He'll be lucky if he doesn't freeze to death.

Maybe that's what his relatives are hoping for. Then they wouldn't have to deal with 'the Freak' any longer. The only reason they keep him around now is the free labor. Because 'he has to earn his keep'. He snorts. Right. If that rule was true, Dudley would have been thrown out long ago. Of course 'precious little Dudders can do no wrong, he's such a perfect little boy!'. Harry, on the other hand, is a 'nothing but a worthless burden, boy, you're luck we took you in out of the kindness of our hearts, otherwise it would be straight to the orphanage for you!'.

He should be so lucky.

Harry stares out into the night, watching the snow fall. It is always so pretty. He loves the snow, even if he hates winter. He's just always so cold during the season. He never has enough warm clothing and is too thin to keep warm. But that's not the season's fault.

The night is dark, no more brightly lit houses to shine in the night. He's glad. Harry doesn't like Christmas. He always gets shoved in his cupboard, made to listen to Dudley yell excitedly and throw tantrums about his presents, depending on how well he likes them. Harry would be happy to have just _one_ present. But no. Freaks don't get presents. Freaks don't deserve them.

He scoffs at the thought of Christmas. As if there is one man who delivers presents to all the children of the world in just one night. Impossible. Uncle is always against things that are impossible. If it makes no sense, then it isn't real and therefore should be scorned. No freaky business in his house. Which is why he hates Harry so much. There's something wrong with Harry. He can make the impossible happen accidentally. He has already ended up on the school roof and made all of his hair grow back over night.

Neither Uncle Vernon nor Aunt Petunia were happy about that, even though Harry couldn't explain how it happened. Impossible and therefore scorned. Uncle Vernon made sure he knew there was no such thing as magic, Christmas or otherwise. So of course Dudley, and therefore Harry, knew exactly where his presents came from. And it wasn't a man in the red suit.

Harry always hears about the joys of the Christmas season, but has never felt any for himself. It's just another reason to hate winter. Not that Harry particularly likes any other season, it just happens that winter is usually the worst.

A shiver racks through his too thin body and one of the Christmas songs floats into his head. “Jack Frost nipping at your nose,” he sings softly. Frankly Harry finds the idea of Jack Frost must more believable than Santa. Jack is a winter spirit that makes it snow. It snows all the time in winter. While Harry has never seen one present addressed to him. He'd probably be on the Naughty list anyways, even if Santa _was_ real.

And Jack sounded like fun. Maybe he would play with Harry, if he was real. He had no reason to hate Harry. And there was no reason to believe he would be like Dudley. Maybe Jack could be his friend. If Jack was his friend, then his cousin couldn't chase him away either. He is stronger _and_ older than Dudley.

But then he let's out a sad sigh. Even if he was real, even if he ever saw him, why would someone as neat as Jack Frost want to play with someone scrawny and unwanted, like Harry? He probably has all kinds of cool kids to play with. Why play with the Freak?

But as he watches the snow, something odd happens. Something impossible. Footprints appear in the snow _where no one is_. Invisible footprints dancing around. And not boot prints, but bare feet even. Harry watches, entranced. It's probably the cold getting to him, making him see things. Or maybe this is a dream. But he can't help but pretend that it's Jack Frost instead. Jack Frost is in his lawn, dancing around.

He creeps closer, careful not to make any sudden movement. He doesn't want to startle himself and wake himself up. This is a wonderful dream. The dancing continues and Harry gets closer still. But then he is at the edge of the porch and he slips on the ice that has formed there. He goes down with a cry.

He slides down into the snow and gives a violent shake. Brrr! Harry looks down to see the footprints have stopped moving. They seem to be standing right in front of him. Harry looks up. No one is there. But then he looks back down at the prints and they are still there. He looks up again.

Why not take a chance? What does he have to lose? “Jack Frost?” he asks softly, not expecting anything to happen. But something does indeed.

A boy appears in front of him. An older boy, a teen, with white hair in a frost covered blue hoodie and brown trousers, carrying a staff. His feet are bare. His blue eyes look down at him in disbelief. “You can see me?” he asks.

Harry nods in agreement.

“You can see me!” Jack shout happily, picking Harry up and spinning him around.

“Ah!” Harry shouts, parts terrified and thrilled all at once.

Jack puts Harry back down, but doesn't stop grinning.

“Is that unusual?” Harry asks cautiously. Unusual isn't a good thing either, anymore than impossible.

“You are the first person who has seen me,” Jack admits.

“In how long?”

“Almost three hundred years, take a few decades or so.”

Three hundred years! No one has seen him in three hundred years! Wow, Harry thought he was only lonely having no one to talk to for eight. Jack has had it much worse. Harry reaches forward and hugs the boy, almost knocking them both down in his haste.

“Easy there,” Jack says as he steadies them, “it's alright.”

Harry shakes his head. “No it's not. Dudley always chases everyone away from me, so I don't have anyone to talk to either. It's lonely.”

“Dudley hmmm. You mean that mini whale that runs around?”

Harry giggles and nods. He's never heard anymore make fun of Dudley before. They are all too scared of him. Probably because they're all smaller than him. But Jack just called Dudley a whale.

“Well it's true, isn't it?” Jack asks with a grin.

“Yeah,” he says, still giggling. But then he shivers. It's still cold outside, no matter how excited he is.

Jack frowns in concern and then the wind isn't blowing on him anymore. It almost feels warm. “Thanks!” Harry smiles at him. It's not much, but it is better.

“What are you doing outside at this time anyway? Shouldn't you be inside, where it's warm?”

Harry looks away. “My relatives locked me out because I didn't get the shoveling done.”

“Oh, sorry.” Jack seems so sad at that.

“No,” he shakes his head, “not your fault. My cousin chased me away, that's why. I like the snow, it's pretty even if it is too cold.”

“Is this the first time they've done this?”

“No, but it doesn't matter. I'll be fine, I always am.”

Jack takes one more long look at Harry before nodding. “Well, do I get a name for my first friend?”

“My name is Harry. Harry Potter.”

“Harry then, I have a very important question for you,” he pauses for dramatic effect, “Do you want to play?”

Harry grins. “Yea!”

“Look out then,” Jack warms as he grabs Harry and takes off into the air. Harry let's out an excited shout. This is so much fun. He grins. Apparently it pays to believe in the impossible, every now and again. Harry then yelps as Jack goes into a loop.

Definitely.

 

The next day the Dursleys open the door to find their nephew curled up against the house, sleeping. Snow surrounds him like a nest, but where he is, there isn't a flake.

 

 

 

 


End file.
